


Garden of Memories

by Schezoroark



Category: Puyo Puyo
Genre: (SZ really likes ScheArl so do excuse the implications), Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-12 15:00:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9077845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schezoroark/pseuds/Schezoroark
Summary: A dark wizard takes it upon himself to hide his emotions from everyone, putting up a cool and collected front. This front, however, comes to shatter upon seeing a certain flower comes to remind him of the innocence he once had.





	

Crowea exalata. A small flower with as many petals as there are points of a star: five. Grown as hardy shrubs, they are commonly pink, but they also bloom in white. It’s not a flower native to Primp, so naturally it’s uncommon flora. In the language of flowers, they could mean “distant memory” or “fulfillment of dreams.”

...So then why is it that Schezo loathes it greatly?

The dark wizard found himself at the park, leaned against a tree, staring blankly at the sky after waking up from a his nap. There were little clouds to be seen, allowing the sun to shine through. The day was chilly, but he did not mind the cold. The wintery snow blanketed the ground, but it was thin enough to easily walk through. Winter days in Primp Town aren’t very harsh, allowing the residents to romp around, build a snowman, things that are to be expected during a snow season. The Magic School was out for winter break allowing its students to have all the time to themselves until spring.

“Is something wrong, Mr. Schezo?”

That also includes their teacher, Accord. Like her students, she’s also given a break on school; the grading papers and teaching part of school, that is. With her keen teacher’s intuition, she couldn’t help but notice that Schezo was looking troubled. Taking notice of her trying to strike a conversation, his eyes turned away from the clouds and towards the teacher.

“I’m quite content with my day.”  
“Is that so? Why do you look distressed over something?”  
“It’s none of your concern.”

“…”

Schezo’s being quite stubborn with his feelings. Accord sat down next to him, trying to keep the conversation afloat. She didn’t want to pry too deeply, but if someone’s feeling bothered, she can’t leave it alone. It comes with the occupation.

“I’m only trying to help. I may not be your teacher, but I am giving you a listening ear.”  
“Must I repeat myself? It is none of your concern. Cease your prying.”

...this direct approach isn’t working out. Accord mulled over her thoughts, trying to find another approach...

“Do you know about the ‘northern cross?’”  
“Hm? That doesn’t seem familiar.”  
“They’re small flowers that still bloom during the winter.”  
“Those flowers...do you not speak of the ‘crowea exalata?’ Rather, the ‘southern cross’ flowers?”  
“Mm, I’m sorry, that does not seem to be native flora. I have only seen northern crosses bloom here. They’re one of the flowers that are tended at the school.”  
“I see. Why do you ask of my familiarity?”  
“They say that the flower represents memories and dream fulfillment.”

Schezo scoffed at the mention of its meaning. A rather insensitive response, but it sounded much too similar to the flower he drew comparison to.

“I have no interest in such a flower, then.”  
“Why not?”  
“Why would I have interest in flora? Especially that of pointless memories?”  
“Now now, there’s no need to behave that way. You may see them as pointless, but one’s past does lead to your present self. You wouldn’t be who you are without them.”  
“I have nothing of worth to reminisce about.”  
“Oh dear. Still, I’ve watched Amitie pass over the flower when she’s troubled. Because they also represent fulfillment of dreams, Amitie has taken a liking to it because she has a dream in her heart. You always seem troubled, so do consider my suggestion. I’ll be going now. Take care.”

With her parting words, she stood up from the snowy grass and walked away from Schezo’s presence. He didn’t quite understand why she talked about flowers, especially about the northern cross that blooms in Primp. He was quick to dismiss the conversation.

“Hmph. A flower that represents dreams and memories? Why would I have memories of a childhood I do not have? I’ve become the dark wizard, and that was the end of my innocence.”

Yet, in the back of his mind, curiosity brewed. At the dead of night, Schezo sneaked over to the flower garden behind the magic school. After all that, he ended up listening to Accord’s recommendation to view the northern crosses. He quietly strolled around the back garden, avoiding tripping on anything and falling into the flower beds. After a little bit of looking, he came across the flowers themselves.

“These are...”

The flower was pure as white, in contrast to Schezo’s dark as black magic. It is small, yet such a tiny flower is adaptable to the cold. The petals counted five, giving it the shape of a star. It seems the “northern cross” is the Primp Town equivalent to what he calls the “southern cross.” Schezo picked a small branch of them and looked closer. One small cluster among a large shrub won’t be missed, anyway.

“…as I thought. These flowers have no impact on me. This was...wait…”

As he looked over the flower, he came to realize something lying deep within his mind.

“...These are...They’re mother’s...”

A myriad of emotions and sentiment welled up in him. These flowers were her favorite, and he knew it as a child. The laughter shared with his mother, training with his step-father, even the moments he shared with step-siblings. Those moments came rushing to him, remembering all that had passed in his childhood. The innocence of all that has already gone, long casting it aside the moment he stepped down the path of darkness. It was all over the moment he learned Areiado. Sentiment became a feeling that grew unimportant to a dark wizard such as himself. It’d make him too soft. A dark wizard is meant to close off their heart, keeping themselves distant from anyone so that they wouldn’t be burdened by attachment. No one else cared about what he feels, anyway. He’s just “that perverted dark wizard” that nobody really likes. That’s what Schezo resigned himself to behave: a heartless, distant dark wizard.

Is that really true…?

A single drop splashed and rolled off one of the petals. This can’t be right...there has been no hearsay of more snowfall. It couldn’t have been rain either, this is not the season to warrant it. The dark wizard felt confused. As he looked up at the lightly clouded sky, he felt something trail down his cheeks. Something moist, but warm in contrast to the chill of the night. When he reached for his face to brush it off, he came to realize that they were his own tears.

“I don’t understand...I’m the dark wizard. I have an image to uphold. I cannot allow myself to be overwhelmed by weakness. I can’t let an insignificant flower toy with my dignity. So then...why am I crying?”

Schezo collapsed to his knees, burying his face in his palms as they continued to fall, flowers still in hand. Perhaps he lied to himself more than he did to everyone else. He insisted his childhood didn’t matter. He kept putting an ever steadfast front, never shaken by what comes at him. In truth, he wished for his innocence back. He wanted his time as an ordinary student of a magic school back. The happiness he once had was lost to time. In spite of all that had happened, no matter if he was 65, 180, or eternally 14, he’s still human. A human with heavy emotional demons that haunted him, consuming all that could bring any glimmer of happiness. All he has of his past are his memories. No memoirs of his family, no texts or notes from his school life, nothing. He had nothing to remember by, except for himself, and this lone flower.

“I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t want all this emotional turmoil that came with this title. I...I don’t remember the last time I smiled...I want you all...to stop calling me a pervert just this once. I’m...I’m...”

He tried his utmost to stop himself from breaking down into a blubbering mess. It’s not like him to be driven to tears. He was choked up, he had no one to confide into, he could only tell himself of his sorrowful state. Sobs broke out in between his words, as he echoed the same words he had said all those years ago.

“...I’m just a sorrowful, wayward child.”

However, just as he thought he was alone, there was someone who had heard it all.

“Schezo?”  
“!?”

Calling his name, the moment he had was brought to a grinding halt. Schezo turned around to see who caught him in the middle of the night, quickly brushing away the tears with his sleeve. Dressed in blue and white with her hair half-up in a ponytail, it is unmistakably Arle. “Why did it have to be Arle of all people who saw me in such a pitiful state?” he thought, scrambling to pick himself up as Arle approached him. He did not want her to see his vulnerable, pathetic showing he had just now; his prideful disposition simply did not want him to allow it. As she witnessed enough of it, however, all of his attempts were rendered trivial. No amount of denial and lies would ever cover it up from her.

“It’s almost midnight. I know you’re typically a nocturnal person, but sheesh, get some sleep.”  
“I am aware of the time. I’ll be taking my leave soon.”  
“Okay then. Good- …”

Arle came to notice the tear-streaks leftover on his cheeks.

“…What?”  
“Were you crying?”  
“No.”  
“Liar.”  
“And if I am?” 

Arle simply embraced him. Schezo didn’t resist her. He let Arle take hold of him, in spite of his stubborn efforts to deny his tears.

“I know you were having a moment to yourself, but don’t hide it from me.”  
“I’m not hiding anything.”  
“It’s okay though.”  
“You saw nothing.”  
“Nothing that should be ignored.”  
“Quiet, you.”  
“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, pervert. Still though, it’s okay.”  
“Would you cease your-”  
“It’s okay to cry.”  
“…”  
“It’s okay Schezo.”  
“...Arle...”  
“I don’t know a lot about your past, but I feel that you’ve been through a lot. It’s okay to let it out.”  
“……”  
“I know we get under each other’s skin, but I never said I hated you.”  
“……I…”  
“Go ahead. You’ve kept that mask on for long enough.”

To think that Arle would give him empathy and assurance was something virtually unheard of for him. Her words were strangely comforting, a gesture he has rarely experienced from her. His emotions eventually hit a breaking point, letting out his tears without restraint. He cried. He genuinely cried out in her presence. The moment he’s having right now, shared with Arle, it was a break from all the ridicule he’s always subject to wherever he went. The cries of the dark wizard were left to echo into the night, going unnoticed as everyone else had gone to bed. Once his tears ceased, he brushed away what’s left. Arle let go of her embrace, checking on how he’s feeling.

“Feeling better?”  
“...Marginally.”  
“At least you are getting better. So...why were you crying?”  
“...memories of my past. I remembered memories of a past I wished to relive.”  
“Really? Are you okay with telling me though?”  
“I would prefer refraining from doing so.”  
“Oh. Well, if you don’t want to tell me, I guess I can respect your personal life...” 

Schezo turned around, not meeting eye to eye with her. 

“...but I believe you are deserving of knowing.”  
“Huh? What do you mean by ‘deserving?’...never mind. Tell me all about it!”  
“In another place, Arle. This is not the appropriate location, nor time.”  
“So...will you tell me tomorrow then?” 

Schezo double-backed upon hearing her scheduling a meet-up. He didn’t think he’d allow himself to disclose anything this personal about himself. Still, he knows her the longest. She’s the first person he’d turn to about himself. After all, he did put her life before his at one point.

“That will do. Meet me at the park. Until then, I bid you a good night.”  
“G’nite Schezo!"

**Author's Note:**

> HOO BOY I got some ‘splaining to do about the flower! I’ve always wanted to write a story about Schezo, considering he’s one of the oldest characters (series AND lore-wise) in Puyo. With an age like that, he’s certainly going to have some issues with himself.
> 
> I jumped a bunch of unintuitive hoops to find info about it in English, especially since I’ve never seen it outside its association with our Dark Wizard in the Madou Monogatari ARS intro sequence. I looked it up in Japanese, leading me to the informal name of “southern cross,” which didn’t help me much in the English side of things. I continued digging until I looked up its more formal name: crowea. For the flower language, it’s seemingly unknown in English so I had to look it up in Japanese (referred as “hanakotoba”). When I learned about its meaning, I grew to understand why such a flower is paired with him.


End file.
